I am so very sorry for my wordplay title. So very, very sorry.
See, this is why I don't try to be witty.
Continuing from my previous blog post, here I explain to you exactly why my weekend was just so damn good. We will start with the numbers.
Count it up sweet-peas, that's all 48hours accounted for.
I know that's a lot of travel time for not a lot of time actually spent in your destination, but I would do it again in a heartbeat.
We spent the weekend in Figuig, the last truly Oasis town in Morocco that is located about 2 kilometres from the border with Algeria. I'll be honest, we didn't really have much of our trip to Figuig planned in advance, or at least as far in advance as I would've liked considering we wanted to travel a round trip of approximately 1800km. It's difficult when you don't know timetables or prices, but that you must take the bus as you have no other choice.
Not quite as comfortable as the train (but half as cheap) and containing more screaming babies, the bus is the cheapest and indeed only way to get from Rabat to Figuig. There is a train to Oudja, but the bus timetable for Figuig from Oujda doesn't work in well.
At midnight on Friday, after having Simmo help us buy tickets through his friend on Thursday evening, Lexy and I boarded an SAT bus hoping to arrive in Oujda by 9am the next morning. Oujda, according to Simmo, is not a safe place for travellers (especially females) to arrive in at night, so he convinced us very easily to go on the overnight bus rather than booking a hotel after getting the train. I can safely say he was correct about personal safety, as when we got into Oujda we were met with a very small and dirty station, filled with men who were calling out bus names trying to sell everything from tickets to kohl. I wouldn't want to arrive there at night even in a group accompanied by males. Even the bus station in Rabat (we were told right before we left) is not the safest place at night.
In Oudja we bought tickets for the 10am bus to Figuig through Champion Buses, and were told that this would take about 6 hours. You can imagine the joy that this bought us, but we were in clear sight of our goal (figuratively speaking, of course).
We spent much of the bus ride trying to sleep. Boring I know, but the scenery was nothing special. Unless you like rocky deserts, in which case this is right up your alley. The most surprising thing about the scenery over the entire trip was the presence of Eucalyptus Trees. Yes, the humble gum tree made an appearance. I felt like I was in the Flinders Ranges back home. However, apart from these intermittent comforting sights, it was miles and miles of mountainous ranges with rocky outcrops and little tiny desert tent settings of sheep herders. It's hard to believe anyone can survive out there, but people can and do.
We arrived in Figuig at 4pm. The bus dropped us off at the Figuig Hotel, which wasn't quite where we were planning on staying. As we had no idea where to go, we walked into the small internet cafe across the road and started asking questions. He ended up ringing the hotel for us, and he got them to send someone over to pick us up. That someone happened to be one of the owners of our guesthouse (Maison d'Hotes), Chez Ismail. Chez Ismail was an absolute character, and picked us up with the first words of "Ca va?" really, really loudly as we walked to his car. He didn't even ask our names, just said welcome to Morocco and moved on.
Called the Auberge Oasis, his guesthouse was an absolute gem. Sticking to traditional design, we had a small room downstairs, whilst the family lived upstairs, all around a lovely big sitting space with a small shared bathroom and table and chairs. We were taken in and treated like family for the night (at a price, of course). His wife and family help to run the place, and it was so welcoming and kind. Because we were there such a short time, we asked when then sunset was so that we could watch it over the oasis. He then said that he would shower after which he would take us and show us. This turned into a walking and driving tour of Ksar Zenega, one of the seven Ksar's of Figuig. He showed us to a small hill from which we could see into Algeria, and take many incredible photos. We then proceeded to walk to the water source, which was surprisingly warm (and that people use to bathe in) and he explained to us how it all worked.
After walking around the town, we returned to the main square (loose use of the term-3 small cafe type buildings and the local shop) and we were asked if we would like to get into the car and go and drive and see some more places. These places included an underground spring creating a bath-type place which was incredibly hot, and the local project-shop/tourist spot run by Chez Ismail's friend. We signed the guest book and were shown pictures of the festival of artisans and musicians that returns every year. This festival must be quite something in Figuig as it was a major topic of conversation over our entire stay.
Figuig was all about the people. Whilst the scenery was breath takingly beautiful and the atmosphere laid back and calm (almost serene-completely different to everywhere else we have been) the people are what really made the visit for me. Chez Ismail knew everybody, and we had no sooner gone 50 metres down the tunnels of the Ksar than he had found someone that he knew; either a cousin or a sister or another relative, or just a friend that he knew from around the place. Everyone was overwhelming kind and welcoming without exception. When we got back to the hotel (after he bought us a yoghurt drink from his sister's shop) and asked about dinner, and were told that most of the time people paid extra and ate with the family. It was this inclusiveness and caring atmosphere that made Figuig such a nice place to stay.
It was so comfortable in the guest house with the other tourists. At dinner, a massive bowl of steaming cous cous and vegetables was placed in front of us and the 5 other guests, accompanied by milk and another dish of extra vegetables and sauce that we proceeded to share like an ordinary meal (and not 7 complete strangers). Followed by a massive fruit bowl (I have become a bit of a fruit bat) this meal left us feeling incredibly content and sleepy, but sleep was not to be found just yet. Chez Ismail bought out some dvds that showcased not only the building of the guesthouse we were in, but how the water system worked in summer with crops, and then the infamous festival that we had been hearing about. There was no question about it; this was just what they did and how they lived.
We fell into bed at about 11 after organising breakfast for the next day, and then awoke far too early considering our midnight bus and all the travel we had just done. After a breakfast of bread, sweet biscuits and mint tea (of which we asked for the leftovers for the bus!) we boarded the bus for the ride home. Sleeping proved difficult, but we managed to get to Oujda without incident, even luckily finding a bus that left right after we arrived. The day was pretty much spent trying to sleep but not quite succeeding, waking at our intermittent stops, only to be stared at (we were at the front of the bus behind the windscreen) and on occasions receiving winks and waves. We made fun of this, and giggled outrageously in the men's faces much to their confusion.
We arrived home just after midnight, getting the bus to drop us at the medina, and made the trek through the medina, falling into bed at 1am. Needless to say waking and getting to work on Monday was a difficult task!
Figuig was not a hectic weekend-indeed once we were on the buses it was just counting the hours until we reached our destination. Rather, it was a lesson in patience and self-control when you wanted to scream back at the baby behind you. We met the kindest people who genuinely wanted us to enjoy our albeit short stay, ate some good food (in between bread and nutella) and the adventure was in getting there, not the place itself (even though it was amazing). I have never had the experience of getting off a bus and automatically liking the destination, but this happened in Figuig and surprised me to no end.
As another Australian guest so eloquently put it, "Figuig is a cool place to chill out and do nothing for a while", and I couldn't agree more. It was the Oasis at the end of a very long journey, and was worth every one of the 16 hours we spent there.
Until next time!
Love Love,
Clem xx
See, this is why I don't try to be witty.
Continuing from my previous blog post, here I explain to you exactly why my weekend was just so damn good. We will start with the numbers.
There are 48 hours in a weekend. We spent 30 hours of this on buses.We spent 2 more in their relative stations. We ended up with 16 hours spent in our destination; only 7 of which we were awake for.We travelled approximately 1800 km.
Count it up sweet-peas, that's all 48hours accounted for.
I know that's a lot of travel time for not a lot of time actually spent in your destination, but I would do it again in a heartbeat.
 |
| Miles and miles of this... |
Not quite as comfortable as the train (but half as cheap) and containing more screaming babies, the bus is the cheapest and indeed only way to get from Rabat to Figuig. There is a train to Oudja, but the bus timetable for Figuig from Oujda doesn't work in well.
At midnight on Friday, after having Simmo help us buy tickets through his friend on Thursday evening, Lexy and I boarded an SAT bus hoping to arrive in Oujda by 9am the next morning. Oujda, according to Simmo, is not a safe place for travellers (especially females) to arrive in at night, so he convinced us very easily to go on the overnight bus rather than booking a hotel after getting the train. I can safely say he was correct about personal safety, as when we got into Oujda we were met with a very small and dirty station, filled with men who were calling out bus names trying to sell everything from tickets to kohl. I wouldn't want to arrive there at night even in a group accompanied by males. Even the bus station in Rabat (we were told right before we left) is not the safest place at night.
In Oudja we bought tickets for the 10am bus to Figuig through Champion Buses, and were told that this would take about 6 hours. You can imagine the joy that this bought us, but we were in clear sight of our goal (figuratively speaking, of course).
 |
| ...to arrive at this. Amazing. |
We spent much of the bus ride trying to sleep. Boring I know, but the scenery was nothing special. Unless you like rocky deserts, in which case this is right up your alley. The most surprising thing about the scenery over the entire trip was the presence of Eucalyptus Trees. Yes, the humble gum tree made an appearance. I felt like I was in the Flinders Ranges back home. However, apart from these intermittent comforting sights, it was miles and miles of mountainous ranges with rocky outcrops and little tiny desert tent settings of sheep herders. It's hard to believe anyone can survive out there, but people can and do.
We arrived in Figuig at 4pm. The bus dropped us off at the Figuig Hotel, which wasn't quite where we were planning on staying. As we had no idea where to go, we walked into the small internet cafe across the road and started asking questions. He ended up ringing the hotel for us, and he got them to send someone over to pick us up. That someone happened to be one of the owners of our guesthouse (Maison d'Hotes), Chez Ismail. Chez Ismail was an absolute character, and picked us up with the first words of "Ca va?" really, really loudly as we walked to his car. He didn't even ask our names, just said welcome to Morocco and moved on.
 |
| The inside of the Maison d'Hotes |
 |
| Sunset in Figuig |
Figuig was all about the people. Whilst the scenery was breath takingly beautiful and the atmosphere laid back and calm (almost serene-completely different to everywhere else we have been) the people are what really made the visit for me. Chez Ismail knew everybody, and we had no sooner gone 50 metres down the tunnels of the Ksar than he had found someone that he knew; either a cousin or a sister or another relative, or just a friend that he knew from around the place. Everyone was overwhelming kind and welcoming without exception. When we got back to the hotel (after he bought us a yoghurt drink from his sister's shop) and asked about dinner, and were told that most of the time people paid extra and ate with the family. It was this inclusiveness and caring atmosphere that made Figuig such a nice place to stay.
 |
| Did I mention it was beautiful? |
It was so comfortable in the guest house with the other tourists. At dinner, a massive bowl of steaming cous cous and vegetables was placed in front of us and the 5 other guests, accompanied by milk and another dish of extra vegetables and sauce that we proceeded to share like an ordinary meal (and not 7 complete strangers). Followed by a massive fruit bowl (I have become a bit of a fruit bat) this meal left us feeling incredibly content and sleepy, but sleep was not to be found just yet. Chez Ismail bought out some dvds that showcased not only the building of the guesthouse we were in, but how the water system worked in summer with crops, and then the infamous festival that we had been hearing about. There was no question about it; this was just what they did and how they lived.
 |
| Looking into Algeria |
We arrived home just after midnight, getting the bus to drop us at the medina, and made the trek through the medina, falling into bed at 1am. Needless to say waking and getting to work on Monday was a difficult task!
 |
| Surprises around every corner! |
As another Australian guest so eloquently put it, "Figuig is a cool place to chill out and do nothing for a while", and I couldn't agree more. It was the Oasis at the end of a very long journey, and was worth every one of the 16 hours we spent there.
Until next time!
Love Love,
Clem xx
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